Girl, 15: Flirting for England (21 page)

‘Great,’ whispered Jess. She could certainly wait. It seemed her worst fears had come true, and her best plan for damage limitation was to try and pretend she was completely OK about it.

‘I’ll never be able to sleep,’ whispered Flora. ‘I’m too excited.’

‘Well, the rest of us mere mortals have to get our shut-eye,’ Jess murmured. But she knew that she was not going to get much sleep either.

‘Back me up tomorrow if Jodie’s horrible to me,’ whispered Flora. It seemed that Jess not only had to accept that Gerard was now Flora’s, but do a PR job on the situation as the best news since Romeo got with Juliet.

‘OK,’ she croaked. She was going to have to dig deep tomorrow. She just hoped God would be watching. Gold stars for saintliness would have to be earned. Should she warn Flora that Gerard was a treacherous flirt and heartbreaker? Could she preserve a diplomatic silence? Or would she lose it, indulge in obscene shouting and ruin everybody’s weekend? The latter seemed by far the most attractive option.

Chapter 28

Jess woke early with cold feet. Birds were singing loudly all around the tent. Marie-Louise was getting dressed. Jess peeped out from her sleeping bag and noticed that, though when fully dressed Marie-Louise was a trifle homely, even nerdy, she seemed to be addicted to rather fabulous lacy underwear. Then Jess shut her eyes again, tight, and waited for Marie-Louise to finish dressing and leave the tent. Jess had no appetite for small talk, even about lingerie. She had noticed something else. Flora’s sleeping bag was already empty.

This could only mean one thing. Presumably Flora hadn’t slept much, tortured by thoughts of her Latin lover. She must have tiptoed out just before daybreak, probably because she had a date with Gerard, wandering hand-in-hand under the trees and listening, enchanted, to the dawn chorus.

Eventually Marie-Louise left the tent and Jess struggled heavily out of her sleeping bag, like a hippo stuck in a swamp.
Well,
she thought,
I hope Flora’s enjoyed her last twelve hours of bliss, because today She Must Die.
Jess was planning to kill Flora after breakfast – or possibly even during breakfast – with the nearest fatal implement. Has anybody ever been murdered with a non-stick spatula? Well, Flora could be the first. Strange how the arrival of a gorgeous boy could make you suddenly hate your best friend.

Jess dived into several jumpers and a fleece. These spring mornings were still kind of chilly – at least if you didn’t have a hot date to keep you warm. Then she tiptoed out of the tent, leaving Jodie still lying rolled up in her sleeping bag. Jess didn’t want to wake her. Somehow Jodie managed to convey the fact that, though asleep, she was still sulking and would continue to do so for the rest of the weekend.

Fred and Marie-Louise were fussing about around the fire. There was no sign of Gerard and Flora. Edouard was just coming out of the boys’ tent, pulling on a hoodie. He grinned and gave her the thumbs-up sign.

‘Good merning,’ he said.

‘Hi, Ed!’ said Jess. They seemed almost friends now. However, although she had been dumped on by Gerard, Jess hoped Edouard wouldn’t get any ideas. He had to be satisfied with a friendly grin. That was about as far as she wanted to take things. OK, he had already sucked on her arm. But it had been a medical procedure and in no way implied that they might become an item.

‘Well, though I say so myself, I think I’ve whipped up a fabulous little fire!’ cried Fred in a queeny swooping voice, flapping his hands about. ‘It’s a
camp
fire, obviously, which is why it’s that wonderfully chic pink and gold colour, with sparkly bits all round the edges!’

‘Would you like ze scrambled egg, Jess?’ asked Marie-Louise. She was such a sweetheart. ‘Wiz bacon and tomates?’

‘You bet!’ said Jess. ‘Stick it in the pan. Go for it.’

Marie-Louise smiled happily. Though back home in France she only ever had a croissant in the mornings, she had taken to ‘ze English breakfast’ with gusto. And, to be honest, gutso.

‘Did you see Flora this morning?’ Jess asked Fred.

‘Strangely and bizarrely,’ said Fred, ‘I didn’t. And Gerard’s also missing. Perhaps they’ve been kidnapped by the fairies.’

‘One does hope so,’ said Jess. ‘And one can only hope they’ve turned Flora into a fat old pig with a snout covered in bristles. It’s what she so richly deserves.’

‘Jess,’ said Marie-Louise, ‘pliz could you cut up ze tomates?’

Jess and Fred helped Marie-Louise cook an enormous breakfast. Edouard went off on a little walk to collect wood, mainly because he knew there would be beetles hiding beneath every log. There was still no sign of Jodie.

‘Should we wake Jodie?’ asked Marie-Louise, as breakfast neared completion.

‘I think she’s died of disappointment,’ said Jess, gazing longingly at the creamy panful of scrambled egg. Marie-Louise was a great cook. She looked a bit worried, though.

‘Is Jodie . . . angry wiz Flora?’ she whispered. ‘Because of Gerard?’

Jess nodded and tried to look as if the whole thing was vastly entertaining. Secretly, of course, her own heart was breaking, but she knew she’d feel a whole lot better once she had a plateful of breakfast inside her.

‘Leave her,’ said Jess. ‘If the smell hasn’t woken her up, she doesn’t deserve any breakfast.’

Marie-Louise hesitated. She was about to divide the food. She looked around. Then she frowned and pointed down towards the stream.

‘Flora and Gerard!’ she said. ‘Oh no! Zere is not enough breakfast . . .’

Flora and Gerard were indeed visible in the distance – Flora was swinging across the stream on the rope, and Gerard was waiting to catch her. Jess saw the exact moment when Flora kind of fell into his arms, and stayed there for what seemed like six years. Eventually they turned round and started walking up the hill, hand in hand.

‘They don’t deserve any stinking breakfast!’ said Jess. ‘Come on, Marie-Louise. You, me, Fred and Ed – if they want some, they can cook it themselves.’

Marie-Louise still looked guilty and anxious. Jess grabbed the pan from her and ladled out the scrambled egg on to four plates. Then she divided the bacon and tomatoes. Edouard arrived and plonked a load of logs down nearby.

‘Flora!’ called Marie-Louise, as the wandering lovers arrived. ‘Gerard! I’m sorry, I did not know . . . zere is not enough breakfast.’

‘Oh, don’t worry about that!’ answered Flora, smiling a secret smile and tossing her hair back like a blonde in a shampoo ad. She and Gerard were obviously too fabulously and romantically happy to need mere food. ‘We’re not hungry, are we, Gerry?’

Gerard looked a bit surprised for a moment and then shook his head. You could tell he was just dying to eat a whole raw pig and a dozen eggs straight from a hen’s bum.

‘We’ve been on a lovely walk,’ said Flora, sitting down next to Jess as if they were still best friends. Gerard sat down next to Flora on the other side. This meant Jess did not have to look at him, which suited her just fine. Once they’d sat down, Flora and Gerard started holding hands again. For a moment Jess felt a wave of nausea, but heroically she conquered it and went back to her egg.

‘Where’s Jodie?’ asked Flora, looking around.

‘Still in the arms of Morpheus, as the saying goes,’ said Fred. ‘Who was Morpheus, by the way?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Jess. ‘But he certainly gets around. Everyone’s always in his arms. Evidently a hideous flirt.’ She hoped Gerard would feel the sting of this sarcastic aside, but he was busy playing with Flora’s fingers and clearly not listening.

‘Morpheus is ze God of Sleep!’ said Marie-Louise. Though a sweetheart, she could also be something of an irritating swot.

‘Mind if I scrounge a little tiny bit of your bacon, babe?’ said Flora in an affectionate aren’t-I-cute kind of way.

‘Sure, help yourself,’ said Jess. This was a translation of:
Can’t you keep your thieving mitts off anything, you tart?
But of course Flora didn’t know that.

Flora broke Jess’s piece of bacon in half. (Half! Yes, a whole HALF!) Then she dipped it in ketchup, and used it to scoop up a big dollop of scrambled egg – the very bit Jess was particularly looking forward to eating.

‘Mmmmm!’ said Flora.

‘Have some more,’ said Jess. ‘Go on! Get stuck in! Don’t mind me!’ She nearly managed to make it sound like a friendly joke rather than a savage howl. But Flora didn’t notice either way. She was hardly listening, either. Nothing Jess ever said could possibly be of interest to her from now on.

Flora had taken the first bite herself; now she fed the second bit to Gerard. He opened his mouth, giving Flora an adoring sideways look. She popped the lot in his mouth, and even removed a smear of ketchup from his chin and sucked it off her finger. Gross! Jess’s own mouthful of bacon and egg started to taste like dirty socks and damp cardboard.

‘We saw some lovely birds this morning,’ said Flora. As if they were just a couple of mad birdwatchers and they’d only sneaked off before dawn to ogle thrushes and stuff. Whereas really . . .

I just hope they give each other tonsillitis
, thought Jess.

‘Oh, I love ze birds also!’ trilled Marie-Louise.

‘Personally I prefer the giant cane toads of Australia,’ said Fred. ‘Apparently they explode with the most delightful bang if you run over one.’

‘Ugh, Fred, shut up!’ hissed Jess. ‘Some of us are trying to eat what’s left of our breakfast!’ Jess concentrated hard on her breakfast and gobbled the rest of it up before Flora and Gerard could steal any more.

Just as she finished, Flora stood up and said she was going to nip to the loo. Jess got up, too.

‘I’ll come with you,’ she said. She urgently had to say something to Flora and when else was she going to get the chance? The girls’ tent was no good. Jodie was still in there. And Jess could see that for the rest of the day, Flora would be fastened to Gerard’s side.

They walked up the hill and past some low bushes which screened the campsite from the farmhouse. Flora had grabbed Jess’s arm and was clinging on tight. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure they couldn’t be overheard.

‘Oh, wow, Jess, you’ve no idea!’ she hissed. ‘Gerard is just totally brilliant. And I know this is rubbish, but he says I’m the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen!’

Jess pulled her arm fiercely out of Flora’s grasp, stood stock-still and glared at her.

‘Do you realise that you’re totally ruining this entire weekend for everybody?’ she snapped. ‘Jodie’s, like, so furious she won’t even come out of her tent, and it’s really embarrassing for everybody the way you two keep going off together. For goodness’ sake stop that lovey-dovey stuff – at least in public. At least until the end of this camping trip.’

Flora frowned. She blushed. Her eyes, normally a gentle, transparent blue, flashed like a storm over the Mediterranean.

‘What’s got into you?’ she demanded. ‘I thought you’d be pleased for me. Jodie doesn’t own Gerard. I’ll go out with anyone I like, and if you can’t cope with that, tough!’

And she stomped off to the outdoor loo, went in and slammed the door. Jess was still full of fury. She could almost feel steam pouring out of her ears. What now? Should she march up to the loo and continue the row through the locked door? Should she tell Flora that less than twenty-four hours ago Gerard had been holding
her
hand?

Would it be too cruel to break Flora’s heart?
thought Jess, her mind whirling.
Well, why not? After all, even if she doesn’t know it, Flora’s broken mine.